


A Cold and Drafty Room

by A_Small_Collection_Of_Nonsense



Series: Stars in The City [2]
Category: Darkwing Duck (Cartoon 1991), DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Fights, Fluff, they gay as hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:40:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27156751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Small_Collection_Of_Nonsense/pseuds/A_Small_Collection_Of_Nonsense
Summary: Sometimes love can bloom on the battlefield, and sometimes that love bloomed a long long time ago, and sometimes that battlefield is a rooftop overlooking all of Saint Carnard
Relationships: Bentina Beakley & Duckworth, Bentina Beakley & Duckworth & Scrooge McDuck, Bentina Beakley & Scrooge McDuck, Bentina Beakley/Morgana Macawber
Series: Stars in The City [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1982266
Kudos: 6





	A Cold and Drafty Room

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AiHigurashi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AiHigurashi/gifts).



> Hi, welcome to my annual series, and A GREAT BIG HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ONE OF MY BEST FRIENDS IN THE WHOLE WORLD RASHHIIIII!!!!!!! I LOVE YOU SO DAMN MUCH GIRLLL

When Morgana Macawber had listed bunking with her among her list of conditions for leaving FOWL and joining SHUSH, Bentina had assumed that this meant Morgana would be moving in with her.

Morgana, however, had other plans.

Of course, they hadn’t moved in together the second they’d left their little rooftop star system that night, as leaving FOWL was not an easy task, and Bentina had figured it best for Morgana’s sole focus to be on that, and not having to move into a new place (as she had, at the time, assumed things would go)  
With Morgana caught up in paperwork and convincing Director Von Drake that she had no plans to murder anyone, and for the record, had never done such a thing, they fell out of contact for a few months, until Morgana turned up on the doorstep of Bentina’s little one bedroom house in downtown St Carnard, with a cocky grin and a spark in her eye.  
‘So – are you packed?’  
‘I – what?’  
‘…To move out…?’  
‘What!? I thought you were moving in with _me?’  
_‘Listen, I love you, but why would I move into a mildly-falling-apart-one-bedroom-home when I have a perfectly haunted mansion upstate?’

It was at this point that Bentina declared that Morgana was coming inside and the two of them were going to clarify _exactly_ what was happening, and who was moving where.  
Of course, in the end, Morgana won her over, and she agreed to move in with her.  
It made _sense_ to anyways, since Morgana _had_ had a point, Bentina’s pay might have been decent, but throwing FOWL off her scent meant that SHUSH has supplied her with a not-so-great living space. At first she’d been concerned that moving to Morgana’s place might put a damper on all that hard work, until Morgana pointed out that FOWL was unlikely to assume that Agent 22 of all people would be living in a _haunted mansion_ , and who would ever suspect that Morgana Macawber and Darkwing Duck, who were notorious in the eyes of the public for _not_ getting along, were living together?  
Because, of _course_ , Morgana had decided to join SHUSH’s double Agency program, because choosing a safer specialism and not giving Bentina a heart attack just wasn’t her style.

So that was how she found herself, a month later, on the doorstep of the Macawber residence for the first time, which was, coincidentally, her first night staying there.  
As she rang the doorbell (which, by the way, _screamed_ ), she considered herself lucky that the other members of Morgana’s family had moved to a much larger family home on the other side of the city (the Macawber family had a long and rich history, which resulted in a good many estates across the country), and she wouldn’t have to deal with the many odd characters Morgana had told her about.

All she’d have to deal with was, as Morgana put it, a _perfectly_ **_haunted_** mansion.  
Which wasn’t at all nerve racking, especially since Morgana hadn’t let her visit before moving in because “the house likes surprises”  
It wasn’t nerve racking in the slightest, she told herself, as the door creak open on it’s own, not nerve racking in the slightest.

Her first day in the mansion had been somewhat eventful, including food that tried to eat _her,_ a game of chess that tried to kill them, a drawer that looked suspiciously like a pocket dimension she once saw in Scrooge’s kitchen, and a certain sorceress that seemed intent on reducing her to a blushing mess every five seconds  
So, despite murderous food, and murderous chess, and maybe-murderous pocket dimensions, holding Morgana close and hearing her laugh made the move the best decision she’d ever made.

Shenanigans similar to that of her first day were a common occurrence in the now Macawber-Beakley residence, mainly due to the fact that the house was quite fond of shifting the rooms around depending on it’s mood. This was fine for Morgana, who somehow had no issue navigating the ever-changing hallways, but for Bentina, it was a great issue.  
On some days she’d wake up and find every room she planned to go to right next to her bedroom, and she’d put a gentle hand to the wall of the house in thanks, and on other days she’d awaken and find her closet on the other side of the house. This had led to, on several occasions, the famously punctual Agent 22, being _late_.  
Which was _infuriating._  
It was almost enough for her to want to strangle Morgana for ever making her move to her stupid moving house.  
Almost being the defining word, because it wasn’t enough for her to stop lying awake at night thinking about her.

Her room was warm and cosy as it was, but on their first night, worried she might get cold, Morgana had provided her with a blanket from her own bed, saying “keep it, I have plenty!”  
The blanket somehow made her even cosier, and it reeked of Morgana Macawber – of pumpkin spice and pineapple, and of spilt hot chocolate and potions. It also bore many a sign of the sorceress, little occult symbols scribbled on it’s corners with a ball point pen, the aforementioned spilt drinks and potions, and smudges of black and red makeup that had been wiped off and now stained the pale orange blanket.  
Bentina, on many a night, would lie awake with that blanket wrapped around her, unable to get the thought of Morgana Macawber from her mind.  
Because the trouble when it came to her and Morgana, was that she wasn’t quite sure what they were.  
Sure, they lived together, and they flirted, and they’d kissed on multiple occasions, and there had been several occasions where they’d come close to something more than that, and one or two occasions where they _had_ (but Bentina didn’t like to think about them for too long, if she did she had a tendency to lose all function for a period of time at the mere _thought_ ).  
But in the grand scheme of things, at no point had they ever determined that that meant anything, she had no proof that she was anything more than a game to the sorceress.  
Morgana’s kisses always seemed to happen whenever she wanted to mess with her, whenever she felt particularly flirtatious, and never did they seem to occur as a sweet, domestic little goodbye before heading off to work, or a goodnights kiss that _wasn’t_ a ploy to completely break her.  
So what if she didn’t _want_ their relationship to be like that? What if Morgana was just after some fun and games with her new “Normal” - as she called non-magic users like her – toy?

What if their relationship meant nothing to her?

Her thoughts often went to these places, her mind driving her crazy searching for all the signs that Morgana didn’t _really_ care about her.  
But, she would catch herself, and when she did, she would nestle herself deeper into her bed covers, wrap Morgana’s blanket around herself, and take a deep breath.  
Pumpkin spice  
Pineapple  
Hot Chocolate  
Spilt Potions

And then, she’d let herself drift off to sleep.

The entirety of Bentina’s time in the Macawber Mansion, surprisingly, did not revolve around the sorceress herself, though a lot of it did involve her.  
Because, as it turned out, living in a sentient house with a sorceress who’s mentality regarding it was “let him do what he wants, it’s his life” had some issues.  
Number one being, that the house and her didn’t always get along, and she was at somewhat of a disadvantage to it.  
She remembered one particular morning when she’d left her room and found herself faced with a black and white room filled with stairs that led to nowhere. Stairs that went up took her down, stairs leading towards the exit plopped her right back at the entrance, and when she tried to cheat the system and use the upstairs to go down _intentionally_ , they worked as they were supposed to, so, not in her favour.  
At some point she gave up, and went back to her own room, ensuring she slammed the door, because Morgana said that slamming doors hurt the house, and plonked herself face down on her bed, groaning into her pillow.  
How do you explain to your job that you won’t be able to make it for your monthly check in because your house is angry at you?  
In the end she’d just yelled for Morgana to come kick the house’s arse, but in the end she just, in her words, gave it a “stern talking too”  
Though, she had to note that for the next few weeks the house was extra nice to her, keeping the rooms in relatively similar places, shifting them to make things easier to navigate when she required, and even helping her find one of the biggest library’s she’d ever seen, which was now down the hall from her room by default, and she rarely found herself leaving it.  
The library was _huge_ , filled to the brim with every book she could ever want, it had factual and formal books, where she could read up on espionage, foreign etiquette, anything she might need for work (or just for fun), but was also lined with fictional stories about pirates and superheroes, which if anyone asked, Agent 22 did _not_ take any pleasure in reading, why would she waste her time on nonsensical make-believe stories?  
Morgana was one of the few who even knew she _liked_ those stories, let alone how she loved them with all her heart and soul.  
It was almost as if the library had been built just for her, but that was preposterous, _no one_ in their right mind would go to such trouble for the Queen of England, let alone her.

Though, according to Scrooge, the whole library thing was just another act of fake kindness to lure her into Morgana’s trap, because _of course_ he disapproved of the entire ordeal.

When Scrooge had found out that she and Morgana had been doing so much as spending time together he had just about hit the roof, because what on _earth_ was she _thinking?!_ If she was thinking at all that was.  
When she mentioned the fact that he was in frequent contact with _Goldie O’Gilt,_ it was deemed irrelevant information, and he continued on ranting about how spending even a second of her time around Morgana would result in her someday being found dead in a ditch.  
When Scrooge found out that Morgana was joining SHUSH, he’d been _convinced_ it was all a ploy to not only infiltrate SHUSH Headquarters and take over not only the organisation itself, but the _world,_ and, more importantly, she was just playing with her feelings.  
So, Bentina hadn’t been quite sure how to break it to her friend/ridiculously-over -protective-older-brother-who-didn’t- care-that-she-was-Agent-god-damn-22-and-didn’t- _need_ -protecting that the two of them were now living together, so, she opted to just not tell him.  
She just casually informed him she was moving, and casually let him know it was all SHUSH approved so he needn’t worry about a thing, and then casually asked if he’d want to come round to her new place after one of their many trips to cheap restaurants, and then casually shrugged off his questions when they were walking up the driveway of the outwardly haunted looking mansion, and then again casually shrugged off his concerns when they entered the inwardly haunted looking mansion, and then casually held him back as he tried to murder Morgana when she came to into the foyer to greet them.

He hadn’t been overly impressed.

And so now, whenever he came over, Morgana, on some days, would do whatever she could to win him over with her cooking (which had somewhat of the opposite effect, considering it was slightly alive when she served it) or her general charms, or on other days she would do everything in her power to make him despise her, including, but not limited to, flirting _relentlessly_ with Bentina, which had involved clinging to her for an entire evening, sitting in her lap over dinner, making Bentina sit in _her_ lap over dinner, hand feeding her food, whispering things into her ear that made her go a deep crimson red and dissolve into a pool of homosexuality on the spot, non-stop kisses being planted anywhere she could reach on Bentina’s body, and that was just one night.

Though, one of the big reasons that Scrooge was not overly fond of Morgana – and this annoyed Bentina to no end – was because Scrooge McDuck despised magic.  
He saw it as nothing more than a shortcut for hard work, and that made Bentina want to punch him in the face, because if he’d ever had to live in a haunted mansion, he’d know a different truth.

In all honesty, however much he infuriated her, and how ever many reasons he found to despise Morgana, Bentina knew that it wasn’t anything personal against _her_ , Scrooge would have disapproved no matter who she was maybe-flirting-with-maybe-dating-it’s-painfully-unclear, he’d made this clear before, and she supposed it was sweet in the most annoying way anything could be.

Not to mention the fact that Scrooge’s general attitude towards everything about her new life at the manor wasn’t the only mildly aggravating part of living there, because as much as she loved her, she and Morgana didn’t always see eye to eye  
Because if it wasn’t already obvious, Morgana had a tendency to be just a _smidge_ patronising  
She was protective, which was sweet, and flirtatious to the point that the unbeatable 22 was reduced to a blushing mess, which was also sweet, but also the most aggravating thing on the entire damn planet.  
The thing was, in Morgana’s eyes, Bentina was a “Normal”, which was her word (and perhaps the word all magic-users used, Bentina wasn’t quite an expert on the subject) for non-magic users, and that was where the entirety of their disagreements stemmed from.  
Morgana seemed to want nothing more than to wrap her maybe-flirting-with-maybe-dating-it’s-painfully-unclear-normal up in cotton wool and keep her safe from anything that could harm for, and that was Agent 22’s worst nightmare. She lived for that adrenaline rush of almost dying in combat, she lived for those moments when she had no idea if she would come back home alive, she lived for that feeling of the wind in her hair and the cold air stinging her cheeks, she lived to make the world just that little bit safer for the people she loved, one beaten up FOWL Agent at a time, but Morgana didn’t seem to understand that.  
But Bentina felt it would be rude to make a fuss over it, after all Morgana _had_ invited her into her home free of charge (unless her sanity counted as a charge), and her coddling could often be quite sweet when she was in the right mood, so she left it, and just quietly seethed whenever Morgana tried to drag her away from SHUSH Headquarters because “it’s dangerous out there, you could get _hurt”_

And so that was how she ended up in the kitchen with Morgana, doing her best to _try_ and help Morgana make dinner, whilst the woman in question tried to make her sit down and let her do it all for her  
‘Morgana, _please,_ if you’d just let me help-‘  
‘Honey, you have a hard time _eating_ my food without almost dying, how are you supposed to cook it?’  
‘ _Maybe_ , if we tried making food that _wasn’t_ still _alive-‘_  
‘But that’s _boring-‘  
_‘Fine then, if that’s too _boring_ for you, then teach me how to make your weird half alive moving food!’  
‘It’s _not weird,_ you’re weird’  
‘Wow, oh my god, I’m so sorry - yes, of course, I take it all back after your devastating insult’  
‘Good’  
  


  
‘Oh, you were being mean, weren’t you?’  
‘Yes, yes I was’

Morgana groaned, slicing her somehow bright red cucumber _hard_ , ‘You could at least _try_ my cooking-‘  
‘ I _DO_ TRY YOUR COOKING’ Bentina snapped, making the sorceress jump slightly, ‘BUT _YOU REFUSE_ TO TELL ME HOW TO PROPERLY EAT THE DAMN THING WITHOUT IT TRYING TO _KILL ME_ , BECAUSE _I’M_ JUST SOME FUCKING JOKE TO YOU-‘  
‘ _EXCUSE ME?!”_  
Morgana shot up out of her seat, ‘I TAKE YOU INTO MY _HOME’_ she marched over to the Agent and towered over her, ‘AND _YOU_ HAVE THE _AUDACITY_ , THE ACT LIKE I DON’T _CARE?!’  
_Seemingly to punctuate that point, Morgana went to throw her arms in the air to show just how exasperated she was, but in doing so her arm brushed against Bentina’s, who, having been cornered by an ex-FOWL-Agent, was no longer Bentina Beakley  
The second Morgana’s arm touched hers, she grabbed it and swung the sorceress half way across the room, pushing herself off of the counter Morgana had cornered her against in the process

and The Witch and The Agent stood on opposite sides of the room, panting heavily

Agent 22 glared, ‘I don’t _get you_ , Morgana, you know first-hand what I’m capable of, and yet not only do you treat me like I’m nothing more than your shiny new Normal toy, but you just won’t _trust m-‘  
‘OH, WE’RE BRINGING **TRUST** INTO THIS?!’  
_The Witch’s eyes were dangerous and filled with fury, ‘ _FINE’  
_She disappeared in a flash of light, and repaired milli-seconds later, near beak to beak with the Agent, who had had quite enough of her attempts to ‘’tower over her’’, and stood as high and tall as she could, which to anyone who wasn’t The Witch in question, was _very_ tall  
‘ _WHY DON’T WE TALK ABOUT HOW **YOU** DON’T SEE ME AS **ANYTHING MORE** THAN AN UN-TRUSTWORTHY FOWL AGENT’  
‘I BEG YOUR PARDON?!’ _Agent 22 took a step back, giving her The Witch her best what-the-actual-every-loving-fuck-are-you- _on_ -about face, ‘ _I HAVE BEEN **NOTHING** BUT-‘  
‘OH DON’T THINK I MISS THE WAY YOU LOOK AT ME WHEN MY BACK IS TURNED-’ _The Witch screamed, advancing to once again close the space between them, ‘ _-WHEN YOU SHUT DOORS BEHIND ME, I CAN **HEAR** HOW YOU SLAM THEM, I CAN **HEAR** YOUR STUPID SELF **GROANING** , I CAN **HEAR** YOU PRESSING YOURSELF AGAINST THE DOOR SO I WON’T TRY TO GET IN, WELL I GOT NEWS FOR YOU, **SWEETHEART-‘  
‘**OK, YOU DO **NOT** GET TO THROW AROUND ACCUSATIONS LIKE **THAT-‘  
‘SAYS YOU?!’  
**‘UGH – WHY THE HELL ARE YOU **LIKE THIS?!’  
‘OH?** SORRY, AM I NOT YOUR PERFECT FUCKING-‘  
‘OH YOU KNOW WHAT, SCREW YOU, I DON’T **NEED THIS’`  
‘**OH **REALLY?!’  
**‘REALLY’  
_The Agent snatched up her jacket from the coat hanger as she stormed into the foyer and towards the door, throwing it open and whipping round one last time, ‘ ** _I_** _AM **OUT OF HERE** , BECAUSE **I** DON’T **NEED YOU’  
**_The door slammed shut behind her, the house making no move to stop her, aside from groaning sadly, and letting its windows open, and allowing the howling wind and the pouring rain of that cold St Carnard night inside to join them, for misery loves company.

………….  
  


Duckworth considered himself to be a rational person, the sort of person who when faced with any sort of issue, would calmly look at his options, and without making any sort of fuss, would either investigate or solve the issue with a flat expression and a cup of tea.  
However, one might have been forgiven should they have though otherwise when on a cold, rainy evening when the wind was howling like a pack of wolves, and lightning kept striking dangerously close to McDuck Manor (which could likely be due to some sort of magical artefact), Duckworth let out an ungodly scream as the door slammed open, and a large figure stood in the doorway, heaving in anger.

‘It’s me, you twat’ said the figure, kicking the door shut behind her as Scrooge ran through to see what all the commotion had been.  
‘ _BENTINA WHAT THE FU-‘  
_‘Oh do shut up, I don’t have the energy to deal with you right now’ said the drenched Agent, ringing her hair out on the newly cleaned floor, which did not help with Duckworth’s blood pressure  
‘Alright, alright, Duckworth, you go upstairs and have a wee lie down, try no tae hyperventilate whilst yer at it’ Scrooge intervened, taking his butler’s arm and beginning to lead him upstairs before turning to Bentina, ‘And you – get those damn clothes changed before ye touch anything, ye look like ye’ve walked here’  
‘Ahem, well, about that-‘  
‘YOU _WALKED_ HERE?’ Duckworth screamed again, shoving McDuck away from him, ‘FROM _SAINT CARNARD?!’_  
‘I will neither confirm nor deny those accusations’  
‘ _Bentina’_ Scrooge sighed, pinching the bridge of his beak, but Duckworth interrupted before he could continue, ‘RIGHT – _YOU_ , UPSTAIRS, CHANGE, _NOW’_ he yelled, pointing wildly at the staircase  
‘Jesus Christ’ 22 mumbled, ‘Alright, alright, I was going anyway’

When Bentina had come downstairs after getting changed, she wore a greenish cyan turtleneck with a pleated black skirt and grey tights, that she had found in the mismatched drawer of clothes in what was _technically_ a guest bedroom in the Manor, but everyone knew it was hers.  
She found Scrooge sitting on the couch reading a book, and the smell of tea and the sound of a kettle boiling drifted through from the kitchen  
Bentina flumped down onto the settee next to him, allowing herself to close her eyes and let the stress leave her body as she sunk into the couch cushions  
Until Scrooge brought her back to reality  
‘So, did we walk from Saint Carnard to Duckburg for any particular reason?’  
22 groaned, ‘I don’t want to talk about it’  
‘Tough luck’ came Duckworth’s voice as he walked through from the kitchen holding a tray with two teas and a coffee on it, with a hot water bottle under his arm, ‘You’re going to’ he said as he lowered the tray onto the coffee table, taking the coffee for himself and chucking the hot water bottle at her.  
‘Aye,’ agreed Scrooge, leaning over to take his tea, ‘It’s pretty damn obvious somethings up with ye’  
Bentina grimaced, hugging the hot water bottle, ‘ _Fine **’**_ she said, ‘but I reserve the right to punch you both when this is over’  
‘No the fuck ye don’t’  
‘Yes the fuck I do’  
‘No the fu-‘  
‘ _Children please_ ’ Duckworth interrupted before taking a long, tired sip of his coffee and sitting down next to Scrooge, ‘It’s almost midnight, I’m too tired to put up with this’  
‘Oh, so now you’re stealing _my_ reasoning for people to shut up?’  
‘Oh, so now _you’re_ dancing around talking about your issues?’  
‘Ok listen – shut up’  
‘Bentina I am going to strangle you’ said Scrooge in a calm tone that did not match up with the words coming from his beak in the slightest.

Bentina sighed, leant her head against the back of the couch, staring at the ceiling, ‘Morgana and I had a fight’  
‘…that’s it?’  
‘It was a big fight, _Duckworth’  
_‘Yes but, you walked to Duckburg over a fight?’  
‘Actually I ran’  
‘That doesn’t – wait why didn’t you get a bus?’  
‘Duckworth, shut it, Bentina, what did ye’s fight about’ asked Scrooge, shoving the tray gently towards Bentina, causing a few drops of tea to spill, in a drink-yer-coffee-lass sort of way  
22 took her tea and blew on it before continuing, ‘It _started_ because she wouldn’t let me help with dinner-‘  
‘ _You ran to Duckburg over a dinner dispute? Also you have a car why not take that-‘  
_‘Duckworth, not helpful – carry on lass’  
‘And it just sort of…escalated’  
‘How so?’  
‘If didn’t interrupt me every two seconds you’d already know’  
‘Nice, take out your anger on McDuck’  
Bentina gave a somewhat apologetic look to both men, before continuing, ‘It started to be about how she doesn’t trust me because I’m “normal”, and then _she_ said that _I_ didn’t trust _her_ , and I was all “What the fuck are you on about mate?’ but then she started to go off her nut even _more’  
‘_Have you noticed that she gets more and more English when she’s ranting? As in more of a _rough_ English’ Duckworth leaned in and whispered to Scrooge whilst 22 continued on her rant  
‘ _Duckworth’_ came the hissed response  
‘Right, sorry’  
‘And I just- I don’t _get it_ , because, for one – why the hell does she not trust me with _anything?_ I’m not some fucking damsel in distress’  
‘Whaaat? Noooo, really?’, said Duckworth, taking another sip of his coffee and receiving two glares  
‘And, for another, why the hell does she think I don’t trust her? I fucking moved in with her?’ With this Bentina gave another loud groan and threw her head back in annoyance, wincing as a drop of the hot tea she was holding spilt on her, which made Duckworth stifle a laugh.  
When it became clear that 22’s rant was over, Scrooge sighed, ‘Listen, Bentina, I might have had my issues with Macawber-‘  
‘Whaaat? Noooo, really?’ said Duckworth, earning a glare from McDuck and a small chuckle from Bentina before Scrooge carried on,  
‘But ah’ve got tae admit, that she’s no all that bad’  
When Bentina looked like she was going to interrupt Scrooge held up his hand to her beak ‘Let me finish, let me finish-‘ he took a quick drink of his tea, as Bentina flicked his hand away from her face and put her untouched tea back onto it’s tray so that she could fold her arms in an unimpressed sort of fashion  
‘And ah know that above all else, that glaikit women loves ye-’ he ignored Bentina’s blush and kept going ‘-And honestly? I get where she’s comin’ from, when ye love someone ye want to keep them safe, even when ye _know_ they don’t need ye to, yer just so damn scared ye’ll loose them.  
For example, how did you feel when you found out Macawber had done an’ joined up wi’ the double agency section of SHUSH?’  
‘…not great’  
‘Why?’  
‘Because it’s a fucking danger- _oh’  
‘_See? It’s awfie easy to forget how capable someone is when all ye want tae do is keep them safe’  
There was silence for a moment, where not even Duckworth chimed in with any sort of sarcastic comment, until Bentina, quiet this time, spoke up,  
‘But why would she think that I don’t trust _her?’_  
‘Well,’ Duckworth said surprisingly gently, and Scrooge whipped his head round with a glare already prepared, ‘Perhaps since you misinterpreted her ways of telling you she loved you, so to speak, the same could be said for her?’  
Scrooge soften his gaze, and looked back to 22, who was lost in thought.  
Earlier, The Witch had described how Bentina would “slam the door shut” and “press herself up against it so’s she couldn’t get in”  
And Bentina was struck with the realisation that she knew what she had been talking about, she had been talking about how on days when Morgana left her feeling particularly flustered, she would make some sort of excuse to leave to her room, slam the door shut, and thump her back against it, letting herself slowly slide down and curl up into a little ball of thoughts that told her Morgana didn’t mean any of the things she had said.

‘I have to go’ she abruptly announced, immediately standing, to which Scrooge did too in surprise, and Duckworth, still seated, said ‘What?! Bentina you are _not_ going back into that rain- OI!’  
Duckworth’s annoyed cry could likely be put down to Bentina, who in retaliation to being told what to do had taken her now cold, untouched cup of tea and thrown it at him before running into the hall, closely followed by both men.  
‘Where are ye goin’, lass?!’ Scrooged asked incredulously as 22 hurriedly threw on her wellington boots (which she had thankfully left at the Manor last week after an adventure)  
‘You know where I’m going’ she said, grabbing a jacket that wasn’t hers (and was somehow too big and bulky for her, so she assumed it belonged to Ripcord McQuack, who had visited to fix Scrooge’s car a while back as a thank you for stopping an infestation of pixies in his hometown on an occasion when 22 had been too sick to do so)  
Scrooge smiled tiredly, and gave her an approving nod, whilst Duckworth yelled ‘ _TAKE A BUS THIS TIME’_ as she ran out the door.  
There was a beat of silence between the two, ‘Well, at least she didn’t go through with punching us’  
‘Shut up Duckworth’

………………………

Morgana honestly wished that, after Bentina had left, she’d had time to properly process her emotions before being attacked by robots.

Initially, after The Normal had left, she’d done nothing but pace around the foyer in anger, ranting to The House.  
The House was good to talk to, because it couldn’t reply by doing anything other than moving rooms around and redecorating itself  
Which, annoyingly, was exactly what it had decided to do on this particular occasion.  
When Morgana left the foyer to go to her room, flop down on her bed and scream into her pillow, she found herself faced with a long hallway that had the door to Bentina’s room at the end of it, to which she groaned loudly and sent a blast of her magic to the wall of The House, and disappeared in a flash of light, because she truly did not have the energy to navigate her stupidly confusing house

  
Perhaps Bentina had had a point about how annoying it was

She reappeared on the roof, and she threw herself down onto the hard, cold, wet, ground so that she could sit there and be angry.  
And for a while she had done just that, she’d sat there thinking about how damn frustrating that woman was, about how she’d given her all the hints In the world and she hadn’t given her a single hint back and how _it wasn’t_ _fair_. Her friend Jim – the one that wouldn’t stop badgering on at her to start in that stupid TV show he was in, Clarkwing Cluck or something – had told her to try turning on all that, as he put it, “flirty shit” on in a way that _didn’t_ have the tendency to make it seem like she was messing with her, but Morgana had told him to mind his own business, because she absolutely did _not_ come off like that _ever_ , and that was why she only ever flirted like that, because it _worked_ , and not because if she did it in any other situation, in any serious situation, then she wouldn’t be able to use the I-was-just-messing-with-you excuse if it turned out her feelings weren’t returned.

It was as she was sitting there, letting the rain batter her face, staring up at where stars might have been had they not been in the city, that she heard a clang.  
She turned to the source of the sound, and saw a tiny little droid, round with a singular leg-looking thing sticking out from the bottom, and a camera in it’s middle, that had just bashed against the side of one of the chimneys.  
Morgana had found it quite cute until it had started shooting at her.

She rolled away from where she had been sitting, and staggered up to her feet, glaring at the droid, which continued to shoot at her as she scrambled to dodge the bullets. When her brain finally processed what the hell was happening, she sent a blast of magic it’s way, and it fell to the ground, sparking, but useless.

Morgana grinned, wiping the dirt from her clothes and examining a new rip in her dress which meant the outfit had to be taken completely out of rotation. She had been so caught up in annoyance because _this was her favourite dress, dammit,_ that she almost hadn’t noticed the hundreds of other tiny droids crawling and flying up the walls of the house.  
Though, almost was the defining word.

Morgana growled in anger, and summoned a protective shield around her, and prepared herself for the intense amount of physical energy it was going to take in order to both keep her shield up _and_ destroy the droids, before the one of the droids, which was slightly bigger than the others, _spoke_ , in a human voice –

 _‘-ck off Bradford no one cares about your stupid dead niece – Ah, I believe we’ve made a connection, **RIGHT, EVERYONE IN HERE WHO ISN’T ME, OUT-‘**  
‘_…am I interrupting something?’ asked Morgana with an eyebrow raised, suddenly a lot less intimidated by whatever was happening,  
_‘Oh, it’s you – can Agent 22 come to the phone?’_  
‘The _phone?’_  
_‘Yes, that was observational humour wasted on you, I’ll reuse it once Agent 22 arrives’_  
’ _22_ will most certainly _not_ be arriving’ Morgana said, anger creeping back into her voice, ‘and _you_ will not touch her under _any_ circumstances’  
_‘Oh **fantastic,** you’re the don’t-touch-my-wife type’_ said the voice with a sigh, _‘No matter, I’ll simply kill **you** first’_  
‘ _What?!’  
_‘ _But first, please, refrain from interrupting as I give my introductory declaration of harmful intent – GREETINGS, it is I, Black Heron, and it with great pleasure that I must inform you to stand down and kneel before me, for **I** am your new-‘_  
‘Oh fuck this-‘  
_‘What part of “don’t interrupt” did we not underst- HEY, STOP THAT-‘_  
Morgana didn’t pay her any heed, continuing to send her blasts of bright light at the droids, taking them out one by one, as the droid who Heron’s voice was coming from flew as far away from her blasts as possible, as it seemingly had replaced it’s weaponry with her voice box, which deeply annoyed Morgana.

‘ _WAIT-‘_ came the voice, sounding panicked, and before Morgana could ignore her and continue firing, the onslaught of bullets coming from the droids stopped, and out of courtesy, so did The Sorceress  
_‘I know who you are, **Agent Macawber’**_  
Morgana froze  
‘That is _not_ who I am, not anymore’  
Heron barked out a laugh, _‘Yes, and if you give a fish a collar, it’s a dog_  
_‘Listen, you and I? We’re exactly the same, we were foiled by the same walking protocol, and if we worked together? Well, I believe all out problems could just-_ ‘ the sound of Heron snapping her fingers crackled through the droids voice box, ‘ _-Disappear’_  
Morgana could hear Heron’s grin  
and it made her want to vomit  
‘The two of us will _never_ be the same’  
‘ _Oh of **course** not, why would **anyone** think **that**_ ’  
‘WELL MAYBE IF _YOU’D_ STUCK AROUND WITH THAT _WALKING PROTOCOL_ FOR MORE THAN FIVE SECONDS, WE COULD BE’  
Heron burst into another bought of laughter, _‘Oh **please,** you really think 22 trusts you? A **FOWL Agent?** The very idea is laughable, honestly’_  
‘THAT’S NOT _TRUE-‘  
_And right then and there, in Morgana’s mind, she knew it wasn't.  
Bentina Beakley, notorious for her mistrust in others, had, without the usual five years of planning it took her to do _anything_ , allowed Morgana to whisk her away to live in a haunted Mansion with her, and she’d _stayed there_ , despite a living house and the five thousand things that tried to kill her on a daily basis, Bentina Beakley stayed by her side, laughed it off – or in some cases lectured it – like her rock, like her own personal superhero.

Morgana, as she contemplated this, stood silent for a moment, and that moment was enough for Heron to put two and two together,  
_**‘Oh,** oh this is too **good-** ‘ _she cackled, and Morgana snapped out of her trance, ‘You _l **ove**_ 22, don’t you?’  
Morgana couldn’t deny that, so she said nothing, and Heron continued to laugh at her, _‘ **You?** In love with **22?** Oh my dear, you know what? You’re a lost cause-‘_

And the droids began to shoot, far faster and harder than before

Morgana immediately strengthened her shield, unfortunately rendering her powerless to shoot back at them, all she could do was move her shield to wherever she was currently being shot at  
She was _screwed_  
_‘I cannot believe this,’_ came Heron’s voice again, **‘** _ **You’ve** fallen for **pretty little 22,** darling **I’ve** tried to kill her on less occasions than you have, does that mean I should take my chance with her?’_  
‘WHAT THE HELL IS _THAT_ SUPPOSED TO MEAN?!’  
‘ _Well, it would be mean that since my 22-murder-attempts count is lower then yours, **I** have more of a chance then **you** do’_  
‘THAT IS NOT AT _ALL_ HOW LIFE WORKS’ Morgana screamed, wincing as she felt her hold on her shield weakening – she couldn’t keep this up for much longer  
_‘Really? Because I think you just want to keep her all to **yourself,** and frankly I find th-‘_  
Heron never finished that sentence, or maybe she did, Morgana would never know, because in a fit of anger she shot her droid down to the ground, leaving it in two pieces, fizzling and sparking in the rain

Unfortunately, the remainder of the sea of droids continued to try and murder her, and Morgana, as she pressed herself up against a wall, trying to muster all the energy in her body to keep her shield up, had a feeling they might succeed  
She couldn’t do this forever, blasting Heron’s droid hadn’t done her any favours, apart from finally being free of her taunts, which was a plus, none the less  
Was this it?  
Was it all over?  
She shut her eyes tight, and braced herself for the inevitable moment where her defences wouldn’t be able to hold up, and the pain and darkness would follow

‘ _GET AWAY FROM HER YOU SPHERICAL SHITHEADS’_

Morgana opened her eyes at the wonderfully familiar voice, and grinned when she saw Agent 22 launching herself at several of the droids, effectively disabling three of them as she crashed to the ground, and grinning at her as she rolled over to The Witch, who took down her shield for the split second it took her to roll into the small area it protected  
‘Should I ask?’  
‘I mean I honestly don’t know so-‘  
The Agent laughed, panting, and gave her another grin, and The Witch grinned back  
And together they stood, Morgana Macawber and Bentina Beakley, ready to face the world together  
But first, they’d absolutely annihilate these droids

Morgana split her shield into two smaller ones, one to protect her, and the other to protect Bentina, who, with a cry of rage, came barrelling towards them. Bentina’s tactic was different to Morgana’s take-them-out-one-by-one-with-strategic-shots strategy, hers was much more -if-i-punch,-kick,-and-backflip-enough-surley-something-will-break-and-we’ll-just-pray-that-something-isn’t-one-or-more-of-my-bones.

Morgana wasn’t complaining, after all it worked

Morgana’s shield would protect Bentina, zipping to the exact place any bullet would hit her at lightning speed, as she dodged bullets and ran between droids, and for a second it would disappear as she destroyed them, until the rooftop was filled with broken droids, and them.

When it became obvious that there were no more, Morgana slumped back down to the ground, closing her eyes as the rain ran down her face  
‘The hell was that?’ asked Bentina, she herself still panting in exhaustion as she stood kicking at droids to ensure they were fully disabled  
‘Some FOWL Agent’ Morgana replied, not opening her eyes  
‘FOWL? You get a name?’  
‘Shit, uh, Black something? Or something Black? I was kinda being shot at’  
Bentina snorted, giving one droid a kick so hard it fell off the roof, to which she grimaced, ‘Must’ve just been someone random, I only know one Agent who went by Black, and she’s _long_ dead’

Morgana finally looked over to Bentina, and her eyes widened  
A pale cyan turtleneck, a black skirt and tights, dark green wellies and a bomber jacket just a little too big for her, her hair, once silky and soft without a thing out of place, drenched in the rain and clinging to her, with bits of twigs sticking out from it. There were bruises and cuts all over her, and her skirt had ripped.

‘Jesus fucking Christ you’re beautiful’

There was a beat where they did nothing more than stare at each other

‘Sorry, that was, bad timi-MMPH’

Morgana never got to finish her sentence, because all at once, Bentina launched herself on top of her pressed their beaks together  
Their kiss was messy, sloppy, and rough, but Morgana tasted like pumpkin spice and cinnamon, and Bentina tasted like sugar and chocolate, so neither had a single complaint  
When they pulled apart, Morgana cuffed the woman’s cheek, and for a second they just stared into each other’s eyes, their eyes saying all that needed to be said  
‘Ha,’ said Morgana with a smirk after a beat ‘You’re in my lap’  
‘Yeah,’ chuckled Bentina, slithering her arms around her waist and snuggling into her chest, ‘what are you going to do about it?’  
Morgana giggled, kissing the top of her head and running her hands through her wet hair, staring off at the city skyline, until Bentina mumbled something, muffled due to the fact that her head was buried in her chest  
‘What was that?’ she asked  
_‘ doyouwanttomaybebemygirlfriendit’sfineifyoudon’twanttoIswearIwon’tbecrushedit’sfine’_  
‘Pardon?’ said Morgana, lifting Bentina’s head up with two fingers so that she was looking at her again, ‘Didn’t quite catch that’  
‘ _Wouldyoumaybeeverconsiderbeingmygirlfriendyoudon’thavetobutitwouldjustbereally-‘  
‘Honey_, slow _down_ , I can’t hear a word you’re saying’  
Bentina took a deep breath, leaning into Morgana’s hand as she cupped her cheek once again, ‘Listen, I love you, a lot, and, I was just wondering, if you’d maybe consider beingmygirlfriendmaybe-‘  
Morgana giggled giddily, and gave her a short kiss on the beak, ‘It would be my greatest pleasure’

  
Bentina let out a breath that neither of them knew she had been holding and laughed in an equally giddy fashion, re-burying herself into her new girlfriend’s chest, and hugging her tight, not caring in the slightest how hard it thundered and poured, and Morgana held her close, rubbing circles onto her back  
‘You ripped your dress’ Bentina commented, picking at the threads  
‘I know, and now I’m going to have to take it out of rotation-‘  
‘I can fix it you moron’ Bentina chuckled, and Morgana beamed, kissing her cheek in thanks, ‘I like this one anyway, you look good in it’  
‘I _know_ _right?_ It’s the perfect shade of re- oh my god are you shivering?’  
‘I mean, it’s fucking freezing’  
‘Yes, but not _shivering_ freezing – are you coming down with something?’  
‘Well, I did run to Duckburg, and then back to Saint Carnard, and now we’re both lying on the ground in this torrential rain, so it’s somewhat plausible, yes’  
‘Ok, us lying in the rain is a fair point, but _you did what_ ’  
‘Listen, I _would_ have taken a bus back, but then Duckworth _told_ me to take the bus back, and I refuse to do anything that man tells me’  
Morgana sighed fondly, ‘Right, we’re going inside, and we probably should have to begin with in all honesty’  
Bentina laughed, still clinging to Morgana as they stood, and Morgana clung back, as she who had regained most of her energy, unlike her coming-down-with-a-cold-and-therefore-now-very-sleepy girlfriend, and helped her towards the roof door.  
When they opened it, The House spat them straight into Morgana’s room, with the fire burning and the curtains closed, and Morgana gave It’s wall a gentle pat, before turning to Bentina  
‘Listen, I _could_ take you back to your room, but don’t you think that room is awfully cold?’  
‘Cold?’ Bentina repeated, giving her an odd look  
‘Yes, cold, and _terribly_ drafty, and, well, _my_ room has a fire-‘  
Bentina burst out laughing and leaned into her more, ‘ _Well_ , if that’s the case, then you should know that my room is absolutely _freezing’_  
  


**Author's Note:**

> That was kinda gay
> 
> it's half two in the morning im too fucking tired to proofread


End file.
